


Under the starry sky

by DiaGK



Series: Prompts [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Lavellan/Solas Fluff, POV Solas, The Hissing Wastes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9585203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiaGK/pseuds/DiaGK
Summary: Prompt from tumblr, “maybe something fluffy, Solas POV? Camping in Hissing Wastes, lying on the ground and looking on this big moon, Solas tells her some of his fade stories but she falls asleep and he needs to carry her back to the camp”





	

“What about this one? Do you know the story of this constellation?” Her fingers reach out towards the sky as she traces the stars. The teasing in her voice is palatable and he responds to it easily.

“Of course I do.” His voice almost betrays the happiness he finds in telling her stories he learned in the Fade. His eyes scan the starry sky for a moment longer before they fall on her profile. She lays next to him, on his coat, her elbow brushing his side from time to time. Their feet are buried in the sand surrounding them; his own thoughtfulness made him proud when she groaned appreciatively laying on the warm coat heated by his fire rune.

Her eyes wander the sky looking for secrets which he unravels for her; her nose scrunches a couple of times when he tells her of the things she finds unbelievable. But she listens and she's close to him; the sounds of her melodic voice easily carried by the wind when she asks questions, the smell of her freshly washed hair caresses his nostrils and he tries to lean closer, wanting to inhale the scent in its fullness.

He continues with his story but rather than looking at the constellation he finds himself enraptured with the woman next to him.

It's no longer a secret that she wants him; she declared it rather convincingly after their meeting in the Fade. When he shared with her the vision of Haven village and then his resolve crumbled after her chaste kiss.

The hunger and desire he expressed then did not abate by the passing of weeks when she allowed him to make a decision.  If anything, her proximity and constant company threaten to make him forget his better judgement and indulge in her. Would she be willing to love him once she knows?

“Solas,” she turns her head towards him pouting, “I don't think the Dwarves would appreciate the idea of having a big nug as their…deity?” She giggles and her eyes crinkle.

He chuckles before replying, “Paragon, more likely, but maybe you should hear the story about the Nug King if you find this one unbelievable.”

She hums and continues looking at him with a soft smile gracing her lips. The kind of smile which tells him she knows a secret but is unwilling to share.

“But can you imagine a big pink fatty hairless nug scattered on the sky as a constant reminder of the mischief? Even Dwarves would not find it possible.” She teases him again.

He wants to disagree but the light flickers in her dark eyes at that moment and an involuntary gasp escapes his lips. Her form is bathed in the pale moonlight, her eyes shining with their depth of possibilities and that secretive smile dancing on her lips.

He wants to kiss her. Badly.

Instead, he forces his lungs to take a steadying breath and his head to turn towards the starry sky. His eyes go back to travel the twinkling stars although all he can see are her eyes. Dark, enticing, and inviting. Blinking a couple of times and carrying on with steady breaths help him to regain his composure.

“I think Varric would agree with me.” Her whisper reaches his ears but he dares not to look at her again.

The corner of his lips lifts slightly. The Stone Child would probably not care anyway; he's not the one to follow the traditional ways of the Dwarves. But he doesn't comment, unwilling to break the comforting silence.

She giggles again and when he dares to peek at her as she turns on her back. A happy smile on her face. Then she snorts before covering her mouth.

He raises a brow but gives her time to calm down.

“I think that Leliana may enjoy this idea though,” she explains with her voice coloured by laughter.

He chuckles and smiles.

“I dare to agree with you on this one.”

She hums contended and reaches out for his hand resting on his stomach. A shudder passes his body at her gesture. She doesn't stop there but rather lifts their hands and points to the sky.

“Tell me more, Solas. Tell me something you did not share with anyone else.”

He looks at their hands as she sways them from left to right. The easiness with which she changes the mood of their conversation or topic, for that matter, surprises him again. It should not but it does. She has many qualities he appreciates greatly; one of them is making people around her relax. Even strangers cannot resist her ways and confide in her easily.  The Inquisition circle is impressed with her aptitude to adapt to new circumstances. He is impressed with the way she makes him forget everything else but her. His resolve wavers as he knows it's just a matter of time before he gives in. Hoping he has enough courage to tell her the truth before that day comes, he does not avoid her company. On the contrary, he seeks it many a time to know her better; to find an easier way to tell her the truth.

So, he entwines their fingers and brings them down to rest on his stomach. Then he inhales, pondering her request.

“Have I ever told you about the spirit of love wandering the Waste Expanse?” He asks finally.

“No,” she whispers back. “But what this has to do with a thing you never told anyone?”

His chuckle is soft this time and his voice coloured by teasing, “Patience, Neema. You'll see.”

She huffs adorably and squeezes his fingers but do not comment any further. This encourages him to start the story.

He weaves it with fancy words and eloquence he enjoys greatly. His voice is barely above a whisper; knowing that he has her full attention when she hums at certain points of the story.

Reaching climax of it, preparing himself to add the unusual circumstances, which in turn may lead to more questions about him and eventually lay out the truth, he glances at her.

Soft breaths through slightly parted lips. She's asleep.

He should be offended by her reaction but—he's relieved. Another day without her knowing is a blessing. A reprieve from the hurt he will cause her.

His eyes follow the soft contours of her face, his breathing matches her own, their fingers still entwined and resting on his stomach.

Tonight has been good to him; they walked a long distance in heat and scorching sun; upon reaching a forward camp they all took advantage of the hidden pool in a cave; they ate and laughed and then the two of them went outside to watch the stars. Such moments of contentment and peace were very rare for them, thus more precious when they occurred.

A soft breeze ruffles her hair and she huffs turning towards him. Instinctively, he put his arm around her, bringing her closer. She doesn't wake up, just nuzzles closer pulled in by his warm body. He sighs against her head and indulge in the smell of her washed hair. The loose strands tickle his nostrils but he smiles; a full toothy smile that threatens to break his jaw.

He wants her. Not only physically but on every possible level.

He finds peace in her embrace; peace in listening to her regular breathing; peace in knowing that she wants him too.

The moon shines high in the sky, the stars spread across the dark blanket twinkle, the wind picks up slightly and a strange bellow can be heard some distance away.

They need to return to the camp. As blissful and satisfying this is he's concerned about her safety rather than his enjoyment. A long strained sigh leaves his lips.

“Neema, wake up.” He shakes her gently. To his surprise she stirs and blinks at him. “We need to go back to the camp. It's not safe here.”

She nods in understanding and stands up slowly. As he collects his coat he notices her pouting. Adorable. He chuckles and she looks at him confused. Also, only slightly aware.

So, he reaches out and she grabs his hand without question as they start going back to the camp. Their progress is slow as she yawns shamelessly. Another chuckles leaves his mouth before he turns around and picks her up bridal style. She squeaks surprised clinging to him nevertheless. By the time they reach the camp she's fallen asleep again. He hoists her carefully, meandering between Inquisition tents towards hers, pointedly ignoring the comments from their companions sitting around the campfire.

Once she lays on her bedroll he unfastens her armour and takes of her boots. She murmurs a quiet _ma serannas_ to him and he smiles. It’s a good feeling, this familiarity, menial tasks he sets himself on doing. When he covers her form with a coat he lingers a bit, wondering if he should stay. The others will not find it unusual; after all, they share a tent quite often. But he does not want to intrude or assume that she would welcome his company, so he hesitates.  Eventually, his heart wins and he lays down on the other bedroll, facing her, observing her face in the low light, marvelling at her peaceful expression. His hand reaches out, as of its own accord, and grabs hers in a loose embrace. Her fingers instinctively wrap themselves around his longer ones and his heart skips a bit.

It is a good decision to stay. Yes, he repeats to himself, it is.


End file.
